The Blake Adventures: Seen and Not Heard
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Jean and Lucien find themselves with a new houseguest to take care of, but is seems that the the key to the mysterious deaths of a husband and wife are stuck in the head of an uncommunicative witness.
1. Chapter 1

**The Blake Adventures: Seen and Not Heard**

 _January 1961_

Jean bustled around the kitchen, as she did every morning, but something about her movements made Lucien watch her rather closely. There was something different about her that he couldn't quite place. It was like she was moving faster but more carefully. She wasn't as effortless as usual. And there was a worry line etched into her forehead.

"Are you alright, Jean?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, of course," she replied dismissively.

The phone rang, interrupting any pressing he might have wanted to do on the subject. Jean went to answer it. "Dr. Blake's surgery." Her frown deepened as she listened on the line. "Of course. We'll be right there." She hung up and turned back to Lucien. "That was Frank. He needs us both to go to the Conroy farm. It's just out of town. Neighboring my old farm, actually."

Lucien was curious. "Frank asked for us both? He usually gets annoyed when I bring you."

"He said this one is particularly nasty but that there's something he has me in mind for. I can't imagine what, but I think it's best we get a move on."

"Right. I suppose we should go, then."

They drove out to the farm in silence. Jean's mood persisted. Lucien remained concerned over her, all the while feeling apprehensive as to what they would find at the farm.

When they arrived, the farm was swarming with police cars. Jean looked around wistfully. Lucien made a mental note to ask her about the farm and the Conroys later. He'd noticed in the past that speaking about her old life at the Beazley farm with Christopher and their boys often made her smile, though a little sad. He never wanted her to fell that their life together and the happiness they shared in their marriage in any way replaced or negated her past with her family. Hopefully asking her about it would be a nice way to be supportive. But that was for later, after the work was done.

Frank came out to greet them himself. "Dr. Blake, the deceased are Mr. and Mrs. Conroy."

"Both of them?" Jean asked in horror.

He nodded. "Mrs. Blake, I was hoping you could help Sergeant Davis while Dr. Blake and I are with the bodies."

She was visibly confused. "Help Charlie? With what?"  
Frank called behind him, "Davis!"

Charlie emerged from behind the house carrying a child. A little girl who couldn't have been more than five years old. "This is Rebecca," Charlie introduced.

"We only just got her to stop crying. She doesn't seem to talk. Just scream and cry so far. Now, I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to look after her?" Frank asked.

"Oh of course. Charlie is needed elsewhere, I'm sure. I'm happy to sit with her while Lucien works. Since I do tend to come to these things anyway," Jean reasoned.

"No, that's not what I meant." Frank clarified, "Rebecca's grandmother is in Sydney, and she's going to be coming down to retrieve her and take her in, but it'll take a few days for her to get here. Instead of putting her in an orphanage, I thought she could stay with you. If it isn't too much."

Jean's eyes went wide. She looked to Lucien.

"I'm always happy for more house guests. But you're the one who does the world. It's up to you," he told her.

She nodded and walked right up to the little redheaded girl. "Hello, Rebecca. I'm Jean, and this is Lucien. You know Charlie already. How would you like to come stay with us, hmm?"

Rebecca didn't say anything. She just stared at Jean with big brown eyes.

Since there seemed to be no protest, Charlie handed her to Jean, who held her tight. Frank, Lucien, and Charlie all went inside the house.

"Oh my god," Lucien whispered upon seeing the bodies. Mrs. Conroy was crumpled on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Mr. Conroy was nearby in a slightly smaller puddle. It was a gruesome scene. "Did Rebecca see this?"

"We think so. A neighbor was driving by and heard her screaming so went inside to check and found her in her bedroom down the hall and the Conroys like this. Called the police right away," Charlie answered.

Lucien nodded, taking a precarious step closer. "They've been shot. Multiple shots to Mrs. Conroy, it looks like. Just one to Mr. Conroy, at the temple. Oh how awful."

"We haven't found a weapon. And there's no sign of forced entry, but the window here was open. We're going to fingerprint to see if we can find anything that way," Frank said. "Any theories jump out at you, Doc?"

"If there was no weapon, it obviously wasn't murder-suicide. No forced entry is curious. Anything taken?" Lucien asked.

"Not that we've noticed. The only thing that seems out of place in the house is the bodies," Charlie replied.

"Based on rigor, I'd put time of death at sometime very early in the morning. Perhaps around five. But I've done all I can do here. The bodies can go to the morgue. I'll meet Dr. Harvey there a little later. If Rebecca's coming with us, I'd like to drive her home with Jean and help get her settled." Lucien bid adieu to the police and went outside to see to Jean and Rebecca.

He found them sitting in the car together. Jean had Rebecca on her lap, absent-mindedly stroking her hair.

"How are we doing?" he asked with a kind smile.

Rebecca looked at him but said nothing.

Jean answered, "We're just fine. I've been telling Rebecca about our house and the room she'll stay in, and about Mattie, and our garden where she can play."

"Oh yes, I think you'll really like it, Rebecca," Lucien added.

Once again, they were meant with only silence.

Lucien turned his attention to Jean. "I've got to meet Alice, but I think we should get her settled first." Jean nodded in agreement, and they drove home.

When they parked the car, Lucien opened the door for Jean and Rebecca. He was intending on picking her up off of Jean's lap, but Rebecca got out of the car by herself and took Lucien's hand, looking up at him expectantly. He smiled kindly, trying not to seem too surprised. He and Jean led her into the house, showing her around to the kitchen and the parlor and upstairs to Jean's old bedroom, which had been turned into a guest room. But with its pink walls, it seemed perfect for a little girl to stay in.

"Now, Rebecca, this is all yours while you're here. Charlie is going to bring your things later today so you'll have your clothes and such. But I hope if you need anything, you ask," Lucien told her.

Rebecca nodded, indicating understanding for the first time that day.

Jean had a thought, which she voiced. "Lucien, I know she seems mostly fine, but do you think it would be a good idea to examine her?"

"Rebecca, I'm a doctor. Would it be alright if we went down to my surgery to make sure you're alright?"

She nodded again. She still hadn't let go of his hand. Lucien led her downstairs, with Jean following closely. He checked Rebecca's pulse and breathing, both of which were a bit quick, but that was to be expected. He checked her ears and nose and throat and did a cursory check of her little body to make sure nothing was broken. Rebecca just sat there like a rag doll, unflinching at every examination, regardless of the explanations and assurances Lucien gave as he worked.

"Everything seems to be in order. I think she's in shock, which is why her pulse is fast and she hasn't spoken. It might take a little time, but she'll come out of it. The kind of trauma that comes from what she witnesses…that stays with you," Lucien said knowingly.

Jean gave his shoulder a compassionate squeeze. "I can't even imagine. But if she's alright, I'll take her, and you go to the morgue."

"I'll be home before dinner," he told her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He tapped Rebecca on the nose, eliciting an expression from her that was very nearly a smile.

Dr. Alice Harvey was waiting for Lucien to arrive before she began the autopsy. "Took you long enough. Decided to take the scenic route, did you?" she asked sarcastically.

"The Conroys have a little girl. Rebecca. Jean and I are looking after her until her grandmother comes to town to take her. I gave her an examination and helped get her settled," Lucien explained. "Now, what do we have on Mr. and Mrs. Conroy?"

"Jane Conroy, four bullet wounds. All in the chest. Someone really wanted to kill her," Alice said sadly. She turned to Mr. Conroy. "Paul Conroy, single bullet to the temple. No exit wound. Actually, no exit wounds on either of them. Shall we retrieve the bullets?"

"I think so, yes. The police will need to know what sort of gun they're looking for. By the wounds alone, I can tell you it isn't a .38. I think it might be a .45."

Alice regarded him curiously. "You say things like that and I can never decide if it's alright because you're the police surgeon, or if it's mildly frightening due to your service record."

"And what do you know of my service record, Dr. Harvey?"

"I know you were an officer for many years before the fall of Singapore, when you were taken prisoner. After that, you were a spy for quite some time. And before returning to Ballarat, you worked as a surgeon to an army mining town, Major Blake," she replied.

"Quite right. Though, as you know, I prefer to go by Lucien now."

Alice gave a small smile and returned to the examination. Other than the bullet wounds, the Conroys appeared to be the picture of health. Not a mark on either body, no signs of struggle, no defensive wounds or evidence of restraints. They'd been shot to death and their shooter disappeared without a trace. The bullets were removed from Jane Conroy, and Lucien had been correct about the .45, which was a rather uncommon revolver in Ballarat.

After they finished the report, Lucien returned home eagerly. He hoped Rebecca was getting comfortable and Jean wasn't having too difficult a time. He found them both in the kitchen. Jean was cooking dinner and Mattie was reading a book to Rebecca at the kitchen table. She stopped reading when Lucien came in.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. But wouldn't you be more comfortable in the parlor?" he asked Mattie.

"She started screaming when I tried to take her away from Jean," Mattie said quietly.

Rebecca jumped out of her chair and ran to Lucien, grabbing ahold of his hand. "Oh my. Yes, hello," he said awkwardly.

"Would you like me to keep reading to you, Rebecca?" Mattie asked kindly.

She nodded and went back to sit at the table, pulling Lucien with her.

"Jean, I was going to ask if you needed any help, but it looks like I'm going to listen to Mattie read instead," he commented.

Mattie went back to the story. Jean turned from the stove with a smile, watching the three of them at the kitchen table.

Charlie came home just in time for dinner. He'd brought a large suitcase full of Rebecca's things. Jean told him to put it upstairs in her room.

Dinner was a strange affair. Usually, they talked about whatever police case Lucien and Charlie were working on, but it didn't feel appropriate to discuss in front of Rebecca. And while she still would not speak, she gobbled up every spot of food put in front of her. It was clear, however, that she was still suffering. When Jean stood up to clear the plates, Rebecca began to whimper. And when Lucien stood to help his wife, the child cried in earnest. In the end, it seemed to make the most sense that Mattie and Charlie do the washing up.

"Rebecca, I think you should have a bath," Jean suggested. She picked Rebecca up and carried her up to the bathroom. She seemed fine as long as she was in someone's arms. Jean's heart broke for her, and she knew she'd do whatever she could to keep Rebecca calm and relatively happy. Even if that meant carrying her around with her whenever she left the room.

When Jean bathed her, she was glad to see that there were no signs of injury or abuse on her. Jean knew from experience that farm life was fraught with all kinds of unspoken cruelty and hardship. She was glad to know that little Rebecca seemed thoroughly loved and well cared for. Until today, of course.

Bedtime was another ordeal. Jean got Rebecca changed into her nightgown and into bed just fine. But as soon as she walked away, Rebecca would moan and cry. Jean tried singing her to sleep, but nothing seemed to calm her. Rebecca just wouldn't fall asleep. Finally, as a last effort, Jean came to lie on the bed with her arms around Rebecca. That seemed to do the trick. Rebecca fell asleep within a few minutes. But then Jean couldn't move for fear of waking her.

Lucien came looking for his wife and found her in her old bed, holding little Rebecca.

"I don't want to wake her. She cries if I try to leave," Jean whispered to him.

"You go and get changed. I'll stay here with her. If she stays asleep, I'll be able to join you," Lucien replied.

Jean got up as gently as she could. Lucien gently stroked Rebecca's hair, hoping that his presence would distract her from missing Jean's. That seemed to do the trick. She did stay asleep, and Lucien was free to leave. He went to bathe and get ready for bed.

While Lucien was in the bathroom, Jean overhead a noise. She went to investigate, and sure enough, Rebecca had woken up and found herself alone, and began sobbing. Jean got back into bed with her to keep her calm. Within moments, she was asleep again. Jean had to admit, it was quite comfortable. After all, she'd slept in that bed for many years. Soon, she'd drifted off to sleep as well.

Lucien came out of the bathroom to find the room empty. Curious, he went out into the hall to find his wife. Sure enough, she was in the room with Rebecca. They were both fast asleep. Not wanting to be away from Jean for the whole night, Lucien silently moved the chair from the corner of the room. He leaned against the wall and settled into the chair and closed his eyes.

Jean was awoken abruptly, though she was unsure why. The sun hadn't quite risen yet, but light just starting to peek through the curtains. She was glad to see Rebecca still sound asleep. But upon turning over to stretch, she saw Lucien asleep in the chair. Without getting out of bed, she could just barely tap his knee. His eyes fluttered open. She pressed her finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He smiled at her sheepishly, clearly embarrassed that he'd chosen to sleep in a chair next to his wife rather than in their bed without her. Jean matched his smile and gestured for him to join her. Lucien was all too happy to do so. Jean curled up on her side, facing Rebecca. Lucien laid down on his side, pressed against her. He put one arm beneath her head and the other over her waist. Feeling much more comfortable, they both fell back asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Rebecca stayed with the Blakes for two days after that. They received word from Gwendolyn Conroy, Rebecca's grandmother, that she'd be arriving from Sydney to take her. Jean was glad. She enjoyed caring for the little girl, but it was very important for Rebecca's wellbeing that she be with family, someone who could help her overcome her trauma.

Lucien, upon hearing the news of Rebecca's imminent departure, found himself disappointed. Having her in their home was certainly an inconvenience, but it was also a delight. He found himself keeping away from the police investigation just so he could be home with Jean and Rebecca. The little girl was never more than three feet away from Jean, unless he was in the room, when she would run over to take his hand. It was strangely wonderful to be the object of so much innocent attention.

On the second day of Rebecca's stay, Charlie came home after his shift in an awful mood. Lucien took him into the study for a drink away from the ladies.

"What's gone wrong, Charlie?" he asked, pouring a healthy portion of scotch for them both.

"This Conroy case. We haven't got one single lead. No fingerprints on the open window. None of the neighbors saw or heard anything. No one has any motive. Nothing was stolen. We haven't got the gun that shot them. We haven't got anything!" Charlie lamented.

Lucien frowned. "I imagine there was a witness, but I don't think that'll be a lead for you."

"You mean Rebecca? Do you really think she knows what happened?"

"I honestly don't know. I'd imagine she saw her parents get killed, because I don't think she'd be this traumatized otherwise. But the fact that she wasn't harmed at all, just left in the house to scream and cry…" Lucien trailed off, not wanting to even imagine what might have befallen little Rebecca.

Charlie downed the last of his scotch. "We should go in for dinner. Thanks for the drink, Doc."

Lucien finished his as well and followed Charlie to the kitchen. Dinner was odd, as they all forced themselves to be cheerful for Rebecca's sake. She still remained as quiet and aloof as ever, not paying anyone any mind.

Jean gave her a bath that night and attempted to put her to bed by herself, but to no avail. Lucien found her sitting up on her old bed, watching Rebecca sleep.

"Again?" He kept his voice quiet and smiled at the picture.

"Would you sit with her for a minute while I change?" Jean asked.

Lucien nodded. "We might as well sleep here again. It's only one more night, after all."

And so they settled into the small bed once again. This time Lucien didn't start the night off in the chair. Jean took Rebecca in her arms so Lucien could snuggle up next to her.

"Isn't this cozy?" he noted with slight sarcasm.

She sighed. "As you said, it's just one more night. Then we can be back in our bed with some actual space."

"Oh I don't mind being so close to you," he noted, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "But I would prefer it if there wasn't also a child in bed with us."

"Mmm," Jean agreed half-heartedly.

"By the way, I meant to ask you about the Conroys. You used to live next door to them, is that right?"

"Well, living on next farm over is a few miles away, but yes. I knew Paul when he was young. He was just a bit older than my boys. I knew his parents rather well. Edmund and Gwendolyn. When Edmund passed, Gwendolyn gave the farm to Paul and his new wife, Jane. Gwendolyn moved to Sydney to be near her sister, and she'll be coming tomorrow evening for Rebecca."

"I see. So you didn't know Paul and Jane?"

"Not much. They took over the farm right around the time I got word of Christopher's passing. I didn't spend much time with neighbors."

Lucien rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Of course."

"But I certainly heard talk. They both had terrible tempers. There were horrible rumors of Jane treating him very cruelly, people overheard Paul threatening her. But then they'd make up rather spectacularly, apparently. They always seemed very happy and very in love whenever I saw them," Jean said with a slight shrug.

"So a tumultuous relationship. That can't have been a good place for a child to live. Children deserve a happy home with parents who love them and want to keep them safe."

Jean took Lucien's hand where it was resting on her arm and gave it a squeeze. "That's very true. I have no doubt that Gwendolyn will give Rebecca a very good home."

"Good, I'm glad."

They went quiet. Jean looked at the sleeping girl curled up next to her. She was so small and delicate. And only five years old. So young for so much hardship. Jean realized that Lucien's daughter, Li, would have been just about this age when Lucien had been taken away. "Have you heard from Li recently?" Jean asked.

Lucien couldn't help but smile. Leave it to Jean to always know exactly what he was thinking. "She sent a letter last week, remember?"

"Oh that's right. She's doing well?"

"She's doing wonderfully. Her husband got a promotion in the Hong Kong police force. Their daughter, Mei, is nearly two."

"Almost the same age as Amelia. I hadn't realized that we both had granddaughters so close in age," Jean remarked.

Lucien nodded. "Indeed. It's strange. I don't much feel like a grandfather. Though I've never gotten to meet Mei. And Amelia isn't really mine."

"As far as Amelia knows, you are her grandfather and you always will be," Jean insisted. She paused, unsure of whether she should say what she wanted. She decided she would. "Have you thought about going back to see Li? You could meet her husband and child."

He sighed. "I have thought about it, but honestly, Li and I are more like very good pen pals now. I was so excited to see her when I first found her, but we were strangers to each other. We've grown rather close through our letters, but it isn't the same. I don't expect anything more than what we have now. She's living a wonderful life. She's safe and she's happy. And that's all a father can ever ask for. In my mind, she's still just as small as Rebecca. I missed out on so much. So many things I'll never get back because I wasn't there. But I suppose that's just the way of it."

Jean didn't respond. She didn't want to keep on this subject. It made her heart ache for her husband, for all that he'd lost from his other life, long before they'd ever met. But he'd given her an answer that comforted her.

The next morning, Lucien was called by the police for another case. A worker at the bus station had collapsed dead. It looked like natural causes, but he was detained in an autopsy for most of the day to confirm that, yes, it was a heart attack that had killed him.

With Lucien gone, Jean was alone with Rebecca almost all day. She found something for the child to do, as following Jean around the house while she worked couldn't have been much fun.

"Here, Rebecca, I found some pencils and paper. Would you like to draw? I bet you're a wonderful artist," Jean suggested kindly.

Rebecca seemed intrigued by this idea. She sat quietly at the kitchen table working on her drawing, which allowed Jean to actually get some housework. Content with the colored pencils, she allowed Jean to leave her sight for the first time in two days.

Jean returned to the kitchen to check on her. She was shocked at what she found. Rebecca had drawn a picture with the typical talent of a five-year-old, but anyone could tell what it was.

"Rebecca, can you tell me about your drawing, please?" Jean asked gently, pulling up a chair to sit next to her.

The child gazed at her with those big, brown eyes. She opened her mouth and closed it, about to speak but unable to. Jean just waited patiently. At last, some sound came from Rebecca's mouth. "Mummy and Daddy," she said, pointing to the picture. She'd drawn her mother on the ground in a red splotch, clearly the pool of blood that Jane Conroy had died in. Her father was standing, but had a red splotch on his head.

"Is this what you saw?"

Rebecca nodded.

"If I call Lucien and Charlie to come, will you tell them?"

Rebecca nodded again.

Jean dashed to the phone and called the police station for Charlie to come over right away. She then rang the morgue to get Lucien out of his autopsy. She didn't tell either of them what had transpired, only that Rebecca needed them.

Very quickly, the kitchen table was filled up. Jean could see that Rebecca was getting apprehensive about being stared at by Charlie and Lucien. She put the child on her lap next to Lucien, so she could take his hand. Jean handed Charlie Rebecca's drawing.

"Rebecca, can you please tell Lucien and Charlie what you saw? What you drew in your picture?"

Quietly and carefully, Rebecca spoke. "Mummy and Daddy were shouting. They like to shout. But then there were loud bangs. I got scared so I went to see Mummy. She was on the floor. Daddy saw me and told me to stay put, so I did. He had his bad gun. There was another bang and then Daddy was on the floor. But Daddy's bad gun isn't supposed to come out of the cupboard. Mummy would get mad when she woke up. I took the bad gun and put it in the cupboard in my room because I can't reach Daddy's cupboard. But then Mummy and Daddy didn't wake up and I got scared until Charlie came and got me."

Charlie, who had been taking very detailed notes of everything Rebecca said, felt ill. He prided himself on detaching himself from the cases he investigated, but this was beyond terrible.

Jean's eyes filled with tears. She buried her face in Rebecca's red hair, hugging her tight.

Only Lucien seemed able to respond. Holding her hand, he kneeled on the ground in front of her so he could give her a hug. In so doing, he could put his arms around Jean as well, giving her a little comfort. "Rebecca, I'm very glad you told us. That was very brave of you. Thank you." He stood up and regained a bit of composure. "Charlie, has anyone searched Rebecca's bedroom at the farm?"

"No, it didn't seem necessary. I'll go right over there now."

"Yes, I have a feeling you'll find the .45 we've been missing," Lucien said. "Jean, perhaps you should take Rebecca upstairs to pack her things for when her grandmother arrives."

Jean sniffed back her tears and wiped her eyes. "Yes, of course. Rebecca, you remember your grandmother, don't you?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Is she nice like you?"

"Oh yes, she's very kind. I knew her well when she used to live in Ballarat," Jean replied.

"Is she pretty like you?" Rebecca asked.

Both Jean and Lucien got a nice chuckle from that. "No one is as pretty as Jean, but I imagine your grandmother is lovely," Lucien commented as Jean took Rebecca upstairs.

Lucien sat back down at the kitchen table, letting his head drop into his hands. His initial instinct had been correct about the Conroys. Murder-suicide. In what was likely a very common occurrence, Jane and Paul Conroy were having a whopper of a row. Paul had his gun, which was usually kept out of reach of Rebecca, it seemed. In a fit of rage, he'd shot his wife. Four times. And upon seeing that his daughter had witnessed his worst act, he'd shot himself in the head, presumably out of shame. And little Rebecca, the helpful and responsible girl she was, had taken the gun and put it out of sight. No wonder they hadn't found it. Charlie was quite right, there had been no reason to search Rebecca's room before. But how could Paul Conroy have done that? Any of that? Worst of all, in Lucien's mind, he'd left his daughter all alone. Rebecca deserved better than that. But from what he'd heard, Gwendolyn would be able to give Rebecca the loving home she deserved.

Lucien knew he didn't really need to, but he returned to the autopsy with Alice. She had nearly finished, so he wrote up the report and delivered it to the police station himself. Charlie had arrived back by that time. He'd found the gun in Rebecca's room. The Conroy case was closed.

The phone rang. Frank Carlyle answered it. Upon hanging up a moment later, he announced, "Sergeant Davis, Dr. Blake, that was Mrs. Blake. Apparently Mrs. Conroy has arrived to take the child. Mrs. Blake thought you'd want to say goodbye."

Charlie clocked out early and accompanied Lucien to the house in his car. They found that Rebecca had refused to leave without seeing Charlie and Lucien. As soon as Lucien opened the front door, Rebecca ran toward him and leapt into his arms. He picked her up and hugged her tight.

"You are such a good girl, Rebecca. It's been a pleasure to have you here," he told her, kissing her cheek.

Rebecca laughed for the first time since they'd met her. "Your beard tickles!"

"Yes, isn't it lovely?" Jean quipped.

Lucien put Rebecca down so she could hug Charlie. "You're very nice," she said.

"Thanks. I think you're very nice too," he replied.

Lastly, it was Jean's turn to say goodbye. Rebecca ran to her and buried her face in the front of Jean's skirt. "I don't want to go," the muffled voice said.

"Oh come now, none of that," Jean insisted, holding back her own tears. "You have to stay brave like you've always been. It's time to go with your grandmother. You're going to have a wonderful adventure. But you're always welcome here, Rebecca."

Gwendolyn Conroy came to put her hand on Jean's shoulder. "Thank you for everything, Jean. I couldn't have chosen a better person to look after her when I couldn't."

"It really was our pleasure," Jean replied. "And my condolences for your loss, Gwendolyn."

The older woman nodded sadly. She didn't quite have words yet. Her only son had murdered his wife and shot himself. But thank goodness she still had Rebecca. "It's time to go, dear," she said, tapping the little girl on the top of her head.

Rebecca reluctantly let go of Jean and took her grandmother's hand. They left the Blake house and went out into the evening.

Charlie, Lucien, and Jean were left in the kitchen, nearly frozen where they stood. Jean was the first one to break the silence. "I suppose I'll start dinner, shall I?"

Her words seemed to restart reality. Charlie went to change out of his uniform so he could help her in the kitchen. Lucien went to pour a drink and read the evening paper. Mattie came home late, sorry to have missed Rebecca. She chatted with Lucien about her day, asking questions about some of her patients, as she often did. Jean listened as they spoke, smiling at the comforting normalcy of it all. She needed this.

Late that night, she and Lucien finally got to sleep in their own bed again. She was both relieved and sad about that fact. But caring for Rebecca had been exhausting, so she fell asleep very quickly.

The next morning, Jean's strange mood had returned. She was very quiet, and her face was set with worry. Lucien, to his misfortune, was busy with patients all day. He barely saw his wife for more than a few minutes at a time all day. She made breakfast and lunch with efficiency, and she kindly tended to patients throughout the day. But still, something was off.

In the afternoon, Lucien asked her to stay in the surgery after she'd escorted Mr. Claxon out. "Jean, are you alright?" he asked.

She shook her head, smiling. "Don't you know by now that if I'm ever not alright, I'll make sure you know?"

"Well, I just wanted to check. I've felt a little odd all day today. I know Rebecca was only with us for three days, but I liked having her here. It was wonderful to have a child in the house, someone to tuck into bed and read stories to and hold my hand everywhere I went. And you were so good with her. I know you've been a wonderful mother to your boys, but I'd never seen you with a child so young before. Just as with everything you do, Jean, I marvel at your abilities. But now she's gone, and it just feels a little empty, I suppose."

Jean nearly started laughing, but she knew he'd take that the wrong way. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Yes, I know what you mean," was all she could say. "But I think I should go see to your three o'clock appointment."

"I thought we were done?"

"Just one more patient today," Jean assured him.

"I didn't hear the door."

"I'll just check to see." Jean left the surgery, closing the door behind her. She reappeared a minute later. She'd taken off her apron. She walked up to Lucien with her hand extended. "Dr. Blake, hello."

He regarded her curiously and stood to shake her hand. "Hello, Jean," he said skeptically. "Is my three o'clock patient here?"

"Yes. I'm your three o'clock," she answered.

Lucien was suddenly very concerned. Her mood over the last few days now seemed less of a curiosity and now potentially a symptom. "You're coming to me as a doctor?"

"Yes, I am. You're the best doctor I know, and I wouldn't want anyone else."

He came from behind the desk and gestured for her to sit on the exam table. He held her hand as she climbed up. "What seems to be ailing you, Jean?"

"I think I've fallen pregnant, and I'd like you to make sure, Doctor."

Lucien felt like he'd blacked out for a moment. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I'm rather certain that I'm pregnant. At my age, it seems extremely foolish to not be sure, so I made an appointment with a doctor." Until this moment, Jean had been having a little fun, but now she was getting worried again. She'd thought that his words about enjoying a child in the house had indicated he'd be pleased. But now she wasn't so sure. "Lucien? Is that…alright?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Jean, are you sure?"

"You're the doctor, you tell me!"

Lucien's face spread into the brightest smile she'd ever seen. "Forgive me for breaking physician protocol." He took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. "Jean, this is wonderful. Absolutely incredible."

"You're pleased, I take it? I know we never really talked about it…"

"I didn't think it would happen. I didn't want to get my hopes up. We are both grandparents after all," he pointed out.

"Yes, but you should know better than anyone that I'm not _that_ old!"

He laughed, "No, of course not. Oh, Jean, I don't have words. This is the most wonderful news."

"I'm so happy you think so. I was worried," she admitted.

"So that's why you've been in a mood all week?'

"Yes. I didn't know how to tell you." She hugged him close again. "I'm so glad you're pleased. I never thought I'd be so lucky to have your child."

Lucien felt his chest fill with warmth at her words. "I love you very much. And having a baby with you is just…perfect."

Jean remained in his embrace for a while, reveling in the joy. But she soon remembered why they were there. "Lucien, I wasn't joking about wanting to be sure. I do actually want you to be my doctor."

"Oh, of course. I'll take some blood and test it. We'll know for sure in a little while," he told her with a grin.

Jean stayed with him in his surgery for the rest of the afternoon, watching as he took a blood sample from her and did some very complicated things with it. It didn't take long before they confirmed that yes, Jean was pregnant. Lucien had happy tears in his eyes as he told her. She couldn't stop smiling, and she couldn't stop kissing him. A strange combination, but pregnancy hormones tended to have strange effects. Regardless, neither Jean nor Lucien could recall ever being so happy in all their lives.


End file.
